Division Day
by Sparcck
Summary: Three years after Endless Waltz, Duo is slowly falling apart in Heero's absence. Wufei is having his own problems adjusting to life after war, and so at Duo's request, he moves to L2. Mere months after, he receives an unexpected visit that throws both hi


Division Day -- by Sparcck

Division Day  
by Sparcck 

15 May 01

Rating: PG-13  
Archive: Please! Just drop me a line and let me know where it's going.  
Genre: Angst, shonen ai  
Pairings: 5x2, 1+2, 3+4 Warnings: Shonen ai, angst  
Spoilers: Endless Waltz mostly, but probably a bunch of episodes, too. Pretty much the entire Gundam Wing universe. 4th in the Waltz Arc (after Not Half What I Wish I Was)  
Summary: Three years after Endless Waltz, Duo is slowly falling apart in Heero's absence. Wufei is having his own problems adjusting to life after war, and so at Duo's request, he moves to L2 to help Duo and possibly himself. Mere months after, he receives an unexpected visit that throws both him and Duo off track again.

Disclaimer: Do I own them? Of course not. Will you sue me? I hope not. All characters, names, places, etc. belong to Bandai, Sunrise, and Sotsu Agency. I'm not making any money off of them, please don't sue me, and so on.

Division Day, again, belongs to the incredibly talented (not to mention pretty) Elliott Smith. For those Smith fans that have never heard this song, it's a b-side off the Division Day 7" and the Ballad of Big Nothing import. 

Notes: This is the fourth story in the Waltz Arc, dealing with the pilots after Endless Waltz and the relationships that came out of war. You can read the others -- Waltz #1, Tomorrow Tomorrow, and Not Half What I Wish I Was -- either at the faboo GWAddiction ([http://www.gwaddiction.com][1]) or at my site [http://members.nerve.com/sparcck][2]

Thanks: To Aerachnae, as always, for the beta, the GW marathons, etc. I don't think you all understand just how many times she's read this -- seriously. We've talked this one to death I think, watching TV, over breakfast, building her CD tower from Ikea... 

Feedback: All comments, criticisms, flames, marriage proposals, and death threats should be sent, with care, to [sparcck@hotmail.com][3].

**AC 199, December**

> _ there was grown man dying from fright  
so surprised by the things he'd say  
with a giant fantasy life  
running 'round on feet of clay _

I got the call at about two in the morning, Quatre's pale face flashing onto the screen.

"What's wrong?"

"Wufei, it's Duo. He's really a mess." There was a crash off to one side of the comm unit, and his eyes flicked to the left.

"It's okay." Trowa's voice just barely reached my ears. "It's okay."

I didn't know whether he was talking to Duo or to Quatre, but the blonde didn't seem to buy it either way. His voice was edged with weariness. "He really wants to see you."

"Why--"

"It's been three years," Quatre said softly. "He's alone for the first time, and I insisted that he come stay with Trowa and I. But it's the anniversary--"

"_His_ anniversary! Get _offa_ me!"

"He was all right for awhile, but tonight he woke up yelling, and I thought we should call you. You pulled him through before."

"Yes, of course."

The Arabian looked off to the side again, his eyes huge and wet in his small face.

"Quatre."

He looked back to me, and I saw self-loathing there, seemingly more than the impotence of not being able to help.

"You're a good man."

"I just don't know what to do for him; I don't know what to say. This is all so hard--"

There was another crash from off screen, and then Duo's voice came softly. "No, I just wanna..."

Quatre frowned, distressed about more than the obvious situation with the American, then disappeared from view.

And then Duo's face was filling up the whole screen, the look in his eyes breaking my heart. "I'm sorry, Wufei--"

"Are you okay?"

His hair was a mess, half out of its braid, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had a thin stream of blood running down one cheek. He was most certainly not okay; I'm not sure why I asked, but I just felt like he needed that normalcy at a time when things were so upside-down.

His anniversary: Heero's death three years ago. 

"Can you come here? To L2, I mean? Can you come see me? I need-- Please don't think I'm weak."

"No, Duo, I don't."

He pressed the tips of his fingers to the screen. "Come see me then, okay? Can you do that?"

I hesitated only a moment, catching Sally's gaze on the other side of the comm unit. She gave me a small smile and inclined her head.

"Yes. Of course I can do that."

"_Soon_?" 

"Soon. I'll book a flight tomorrow."

"I-- I have to go, okay? I just-- I have to go."

The connection cut, and suddenly, Sally and I were alone again.

"So there you have your answer," she said, rising from the bed and gathering up her clothes.

I got up with her, standing awkwardly while she dressed. "He needs me," I said simply. "It doesn't make this any easier." I paused. "Or any clearer."

Her eyes softened, and she touched my cheek gently, straightening the knot of her tie with the other hand. "I know, Wufei. But you're right. This isn't where you need to be right now."

My gut twisted with fear, although I would never have admitted that to her; it was hard enough to tell her any of what I already had. "I... apologize."

She snorted. "Chang Wufei apologizes. I'll have Une make it an official Preventers holiday."

"Very funny." I paused and caught her hand, which lingered on my face. "You know you'll be in my thoughts. This is just--"

"What you need to do."

"I was going to say temporary."

She smiled then, a full smile, tilting her almond-shaped eyes upwards, and her free hand came up to cup my other cheek. "Always trying to control everything. But there are some things that just happen, and they happen for a reason."

"Sally." And I leaned in to catch her mouth with mine, her lips parting in surprise.

She tasted like mint. I thought I was in love with her.

She pulled away after a moment and sighed. "You're not ready for this, you said so yourself."

"Please understand--"

"Just see where this leads you, all right, Wufei?"

"Women. Always interrupting."

She patted my cheek a bit harder than playfully. "I'll let that one slide." There was a moment of silence punctuated by the rasp of her zipper as she slung her duffel over her shoulder. "I'll put in for your transfer tomorrow. You should be settled in with a position on L2 by the end of next week."

"Now, wait, I didn't say--"

"You were talking about a transfer already."

"But I'm not *moving* there! I'm just visiting."

"I'll put in the transfer." She paused with her hand on the doorknob to my bedroom, looking back over her shoulder. "Don't forget to write." And for a second, Sally looked uncertain, like I would say no. I had never seen that look on her face -- it made her look younger, less the composed woman I had come to respect.

"I won't." I hoped she understood that I meant so much more, but couldn't say it.

She smiled, and then she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.

L2. Duo. 

My heart was throbbing in my throat, and I felt like I was on the verge of something very important. 

Duo asking for me. As though I weren't confused enough as it was. 

Sally knew about Duo. I had confessed to her one night, after she had too much wine with dinner, how I had felt about him during the war. 

She nodded knowingly, speaking of similar feelings for Noin in the middle of chaos in 195.

I haltingly went on to tell her I didn't understand how he could make me feel the way he did, and about how I quietly seethed at Yuy for having everything that I could not -- control, detachment, and then, later, Duo.

But, I told her, how I felt for the American was nothing like I how I felt for her, and a look of almost-anger crossed her face before she kissed me.

And when we made love, afterwards, it was just as confusing as everything else that night.

And then this. L2. Duo.

Duo.

I had a feeling it was going to get worse before it got better.

> _naked except for a perpetual debt   
that couldn't be stripped away  
an unrightable wrong that moved him  
along closer to division day_

When I arrived on L2, the three of them were waiting at the shuttle terminal to pick me up. 

Quatre was standing next to Trowa, clutching his hand as though he were the only thing keeping him on the ground. But his face looked strangely detached; even when he saw me step off the shuttle, he didn't have the look of someone pleased to see me. 

Trowa was the exact opposite, his posture relaxed and seemingly uncaring about what was happening around him. But his eyes, if one looked closely, were narrowed with worry, or confusion, I'm not sure which; the European was always the most difficult to pin down.

But he held to his lover's hand with equal strength, the very tips of his knuckles strained white.

And Duo -- he looked manic, like he did during the war, like that time we were trapped and the air shut off. His eyes glinted with an edge of desperation, not quite an emotion that betrayed anything of what he was thinking. Unless you were one of us.

He took a hesitant step towards me and when I did the same he launched himself at me. For a moment, I expected him to hug me, to throw his arms around me, but instead he stopped short and grabbed hold of my hands.

I smiled tentatively and he seemed to relax a little.

Over his shoulder, I saw Trowa lean over and murmur something to Quatre, whose eyes seemed to clear, scrutinizing us. 

The tall boy's quiet observation and the new shrewd appraisal in the blonde's face made me rethink things a bit. Shifting my attention back to Duo showed little differences, too, that had nothing to do with Yuy's death.

Duo smiled at me and turned back to the others. "Let's go."

> _spent a long time living with that  
never could give it a name  
and when you don't know what you're  
looking at it makes it much harder to take_

I had to stay with the American while my apartment was being finalized about a mile away, between the Preventers' office and the salvage yard. Quatre and Trowa decided to stay for a while, also, opting for a room at a nearby hostel. Duo told them to go find a hotel in one of the more affluent neighborhoods, closer to the heart of the colony, but the smaller boy stubbornly refused, and Trowa agreed that the hostel would better suit their tastes anyway.

For a week, I stayed in the room next to Duo's, a tiny guest room that had been hastily furnished for my arrival. A light sweep of the room -- habit, I suppose -- revealed just how hastily: stacks of comics, boxes of discs, and even two battered laptops were shoved behind a tasteful Japanese screen in the corner. 

I smiled.

"You like it?"

I looked up to see Duo lounging in the doorway, a familiar pose perhaps only slightly marred by tense shoulders and too-bony hips. "I do. Thank you."

"Yeah. You, too." He shifted uncomfortably. "I'll see you in the morning." And then he was gone, the click of his door lock reverberating down the narrow hall.

> _mostly they'd meet when he was  
asleep and have some sick exchange  
that struck him as wrong and moved him  
along closer to division day_

I dreamt. I hadn't remembered having a dream in years, since the war. 

In the soft dark of my temporary room, hands touched me, small, competent hands.

I sighed and reached out, seeking more of the fleeting touch. My fingers encountered a mass of silk that flowed over smooth skin and slipped down to tickle my belly.

A light tenor crooned my name, warm breath washing over my ear.

"Duo," I whispered and my eyes drifted open to see the American hovering over me, naked and beautiful, framed from behind by a shaft of moonlight. 

He grinned at me and slid a hand firmly down to grasp my half-hard erection, which sprang to life under his touch. I gasped and my whole body jerked.

Dimly, I realized there was something not quite right about this. But I was so muddled by sleep and passion, and I knew I didn't want to stop. I understood that I wanted Duo; I always had in some way, and now here he was.

His body twisted languorously above me, arching his back and rubbing his arousal against mine. He was all seduction, passion, lean muscles and shining hair and I don't think I've ever wanted anything more.

_Mine now_, I thought hazily.

I snapped into focus even as sharp tingles shot through me, the long-haired boy now kissing my chest and looking at me with bright, hot eyes.

Heero. Heero was dead, and if he were still alive this wouldn't be happening. _Duo must be out of his mind_, I told myself frantically. _Out of his mind and you're letting him... letting him..._

"But you want this, don't you?" Duo purred. He savagely bit down on one nipple and I let out a sharp cry. "This is what you've always wanted, why you were so relieved when I called you, why your first thought was of being near me again..." He rolled his hips and slid a hand into my hair, holding my head down against the pillow.

"Oh, and you were almost _happy_ when Heero died, weren't you? Wanted to be happy, wanted to see if you could have a shot..." 

"No," I ground out, trying to twist my body away from his. "No, that's not how it was."

"You still want me, Wufei? Still want this?" His body changed and suddenly sharp hips dug into my pelvis, bony fingers with swelled knuckles dragged down my chest. 

"This isn't--"

"Me?" His eyes were bright not with lust but with fever, his skin was sallow and stretched tight across his skull. Once silky hair was matted and felt like straw rubbing against my collarbones where it was trapped between our bodies. "It is, though, it is. I'm Shinigami, didn't you know?"

I was freezing cold; my genitals shrunk and pulled up against my body. 

"No, no," he wheezed, tugging sharply on my now limp shaft. "You want me, you know you do -- now that Heero's gone, you can have everything--"

"No! Stop!"

In a burst of adrenaline I sat up and threw him off of me and I was alone in the room, my silent shout fading in my mind. I sprang out of bed and looked wildly around for Duo, even though I knew it was a dream, a terrible nightmare that had no basis in reality.

_"...Now that Heero's gone, you can have everything..."_

"Gods--" I just made it to the bathroom before falling to my knees, hugging the toilet bowl and dry-heaving for about fifteen minutes. There was a light tread in the hallway, a change in the air that I recognized as Duo, standing just outside the bathroom door, not speaking. 

Slowly, I stood and rinsed my mouth, water dripping down my chin to splash on my bare chest, Duo's eyes following the path the drops took to the waistband of my pyjamas.

I stepped towards him and saw that this Duo was the Duo I knew, healthy and alive. 

He put a supportive hand on the small of my back, guiding me to my room. 

"I'm sorry," he finally said, the two of us standing in the doorway.

"No," I said seriously, aware that I'd never said it before. "_I'm_ sorry. I'm so sorry."

He smiled tiredly and backed away. "No more nightmares, okay?"

"Okay." 

He reached out and ran a hand lightly over my shoulder, down to squeeze my bicep. "Okay."

His hand dropped away and he turned and went back to his room. 

I didn't dream again.

> _I can't make an exception for a bad  
connection that only goes one way  
sell out for a song where I don't belong  
with you on division day_

Quatre wouldn't look at me as he signaled the waiter. He and Trowa were planning to leave the next day, so we met for coffee while his lover took Duo grocery shopping. The European was surprisingly good at domestic tasks and I had to make another tiny adjustment in my thinking when it came to the five of us.

The _four_ of us.

"What's going on? What's the matter with you?"

"You can't understand, Wufei," he snapped, his eyebrows pulling together. He looked immediately contrite. "I'm sorry. It's just that I care about Duo so much."

"I understand that more than anyone," I said quietly, unable to help myself. 

He looked up quickly, seeming to hesitate. 

I shook my head. "This isn't about me. Tell me what's going on."

He looked down again, staring at his lap. His voice was barely above a whisper, a tone I remembered well from the war. "You'll think me horrible."

I sighed. _No more war comparisons_, I told myself. "Just tell me."

"Every time I look at Duo, Wufei, I keep thinking: How does he go on after Heero died? And I wonder if I could have been as strong had it been me. And Trowa."

I frowned. "_That_ makes you horrible?"

"No, no." 

The waiter appeared and I waved him away impatiently, perhaps a bit more forcefully than I intended. The young man looked almost frightened as he hastily backed away.

Quatre smiled in spite of himself, ran a hand through his hair and blew out a puff of air. "It's not that." He paused and leaned forward a bit, unclenching his fists forcibly and flattening his palms on his knees. "It's that sometimes... at night, I look at Trowa, and I'm just so _glad_..."

Ah. Of course. "That he's still alive."

He nodded slightly, his hands twitching on his neatly pressed slacks. "Yes. I think I'm so lucky... that it was Heero and not Trowa." 

He looked me straight in the eye, and I was taken aback at the self-loathing I saw there, not an expression that I had ever equated with the Arabian, so confident and strident since the--

I was silent for a moment. _No more war thoughts_, I reinforced. Confident since taking over his family's business. Calm and possessed. That was what I had come to associate with Quatre in these three years.

"Don't judge me."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm thinking. Can't a man think?"

He quirked a small smile. "Yes."

"All right then."

There was another pause, then: "Don't tell Trowa."

"Of course not," I snapped, not knowing whether I was more irritated that he thought I would betray his confidence or that he had reverted back to his fifteen year old visage, small hands now clenched in his lap, his face tight. "It's none of my business," I amended, trying to soften my tone.

"Isn't it?"

"No. Why would it be?"

"Because we're your _friends_." He sat up a bit straighter, his composition coming back. "My business is yours."

"I suppose that's just never been my way." I sat back and smoothed out the wrinkles in my pants. If I was going to stay, perhaps I should think about investing in a good steamer. Sally crossed my mind and I frowned. Her words about my transfer to L2 had thrown me, and I had a feeling she was thinking about something she hadn't said aloud.

"It should be."

"Hm?

"What's wrong?" He seemed to be scrutinizing me with that same sharp eye I had seen when I first arrived, and I quickly replaced the frown with a more neutral expression.

"Why do you ask?"

"You're uncomfortable." He paused, and an uncharacteristic smirk lit his face. "More so than usual."

"You sound like that baichi American," I teased gently.

His smile immediately turned to a half-frown, and he looked away again, raising two fingers to the waiter, who had been hovering about five feet away.

Inwardly, I cursed.

If Quatre only knew the truth about me, about how I had felt when I heard Duo wanted to see me, he would know that I was the monster here, not him. A ghost of my dream touched me and I shuddered. 

The waiter, still nervous from my earlier reaction to his untimely arrival, stuttered out a greeting and took my order for a green tea. Although I knew it wouldn't be the way I liked it, I needed something to do with my hands. The blonde was already clutching a teacup in his small hands, the picture of innocence and maturity at the same time.

"It wouldn't hurt to be nice to people," Quatre said in his soft, non-threatening way when the waiter had left. He eyed me oddly, and his new air seemed to settle around him. "Maybe that 'baichi American' can help you work on that."

I pointedly ignored the look on his face, letting out a long-suffering sigh and leaning back in my chair. "Yes," I said quietly. "Maybe."

**AC 200, January**

> _the moon stood up on the ridge  
looking down where the water shines  
and a man looking over the bridge  
like he done so many times_

I was a little worried when Duo phoned to tell me he wasn't going to make dinner a few weeks later. It had become a ritual with us, after I came home from work he would come over, and later would fall asleep watching the news. 

He had quietly confessed one night that it was the only sleep he had gotten since Hilde moved out, but when I blinked he was laughing again, prodding at me to stop frowning so much.

When he told me he wasn't coming that night, I hesitantly asked him if something was wrong, not wanting to upset him. He laughed. Of course. 

"Nothing wrong, Wu. I promise."

So said Duo Maxwell, who never told a lie and showed up on my doorstep four hours later half-drunk and leering at me when I opened the door.

I frowned as sternly as I could with worry running through me. "'Nothing' is wrong, hm?"

"Not anymore, anyway," he shot back, putting a hand on my chest to steady himself as he wobbled. 

"Drunk, too. Very nice."

"I'm not drunk. At least, not anymore. You should have seen me two hours ago, now _that_ was drunk."

I stepped back on purpose and he stumbled forward, cracking his head against the doorjamb. "Shit," he swore softly, trying to push back to a standing position and overcompensating, sending himself reeling backwards. "Shit _shit_--"

I caught his wrist and dragged him inside. "Come. I'll make you some tea."

"Maybe I don't want any stupid tea," he mumbled, but allowed me to pull him along and propel him onto the couch.

I came back holding two cups of brown rice tea; he hesitated a moment, inhaling the dark scent before sipping at it, his knuckles white on the pale green cup.

We sat in silence for about a half an hour, drinking 6 cups of tea between us. 

Then: "I couldn't stand the quiet anymore."

"Why didn't you just come here for dinner?"

"I'm not sure," he said, as if trying to puzzle it out. "I just couldn't. Couldn't talk, didn't want to see anyone. And then it just hit me, how thick and still everything is since Hilde left." He half-raised the cup to his mouth, then lowered it again. "Since before she left, really. We just stopped talking, and then..." He made a childlike waving motion with his right hand.

I didn't really know what to say, so I just waited for him to go on. I shifted a bit on the mat across from the couch, tucking my feet more firmly under me.

"It's not like we were any good for each other, you know, I mean, I _know_ that. But it was something, she was something, some_one_, I mean, and she cared about me. But she started to make me feel... _crawly_ inside when I was with her, and I was such an ass for keeping her there when I knew how she felt about me, and I _knew_."

He lapsed into silence, looking at me with liquid eyes. I was reminded of the royal purple ink Meiran used to sign documents.

Something told me that anything I said would some out badly, and the American was never one for half-truths or couched comments. So I just said the first thing that I thought of. "I did wonder why you decided to be with her."

Duo seemed to freeze for a moment, his face going blank, before something of a nasty smirk curved his lips. "Why I decided to be with her in general, or why I decided to be with her over you?"

The small sip of tea I took chose the wrong pipe to go down, and I coughed, my eyes watering. "What?"

He looked down, swirling the remaining tea leaves in the bottom of his cup. "Nothing. Nevermind."

"Fine."

We were silent, until he said, "No, scratch that, I really want to know. What did you mean?"

"I meant what I asked, Maxwell. I was truly curious."

"Yes, but curious about which one? That's a valid question."

"You make everything into a double-meaning. Why do you _do_ that?"

"Why won't you be _honest_ with me? Where's your precious _honor_?"

I stood haltingly, my face burning. "I want to help you, I really do. But I refuse to be mocked."

He got up quickly, crossing to me in less than a stride and grabbing my wrist. "I'm not mocking." He paused, thoughtful. Then: "Maybe I could have been more tactful. But you're always in such a hurry to get angry--"

"I simply asked a question--"

"I did, too--"

"Fine, fine! Yes, all right. _Yes_."

"Yes to which one? It wasn't really a 'yes' sort of question--"

"Yes to the latter. Why her and why not me. That one." Something was breaking -- I had said something very important.

He sat down heavily on the couch. "That's easy, Wufei. You of all people should have figured that one out."

"Please fill me in," I said stiffly. "I must not be as quick as usual today."

He laughed harshly, and I fought the urge to step back, then quickly had to fight the opposite urge to take him in my arms. "It's so obvious to me. Maybe I've been alone in my head for too long. I'm not sure I understand how people work anymore."

"Why couldn't you come to me?"

"That wasn't the question, was it, Wufei? The question was why I didn't ask you to be with me after Heero died, to share my house and my bed when I couldn't stand to be alone anymore. Wasn't that what you wanted to do?" He was smiling almost meanly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Don't do this," I said, making a swift decision and sitting beside him. "You're not yourself right now."

"Don't do _that_!" and he pushed me away from him. "I won't break, goddammit. I _am_ myself, with you more than anyone, and I need to say this."

I nodded, and the leather whispered against my clothes when I shifted, leaning back in the couch arm. I was glad he was there -- for all the tension, I wanted to talk about it. I needed to. I had gone all that way, and this seemed so important, seemed to me to be what would finally pull aside the curtain of restlessness that had fallen over me after the war.

He smiled. "How are you the innocent one, Wufei? You were always carrying around such a weight that I don't think I ever realized how light you could be, how naive."

I stiffened. "I'm not nai--"

He smiled, a bit softer this time, and he cut me off. "Naive. You are. It's okay, you just didn't know what you were getting into, and you had so much to stop you from being yourself, from learning about the world."

"I know plenty about the world, Maxwell, I've read--"

"Reading about it is not the same as living it."

I frowned. "With a careful eye, reading can be--"

"I love you, you know."

It was said so casually, I was afraid it was something my imagination had supplied for me, the words I wanted to hear.

He smiled and leaned back, stretching his arms over his head and closing his eyes. "So that's why, you know, why I didn't come to you. Because I loved you so much, and I was afraid of falling _in_ love with you, and I just didn't... couldn't do it." He cracked one plum eye open slightly. "But I guess I managed to do it anyway, at least a little."

"Duo..."

"You don't have to say anything. I know you don't feel the same way, I just thought... You wanted to know. So I told you."

My head was swimming, and there was a funny feeling in the soles of my feet that I had never experienced before. "Duo."

Both eyes were closed again. "Hm?"

_This can't be real. I must be dreaming._ There were so many things I wanted to say:

_I'm not ready for this._

_I have a career now._

_Sally is waiting for me._

_I'm not good enough._

_If only you knew the things I thought._

"I could have been there for you."

He laughed, short and sharp. "I know. That's why being with Hilde was so much easier."

"I could still--"

He cut me off, straddling my hips and pressing a hand over my mouth faster than I could follow. "Don't."

He leaned his forehead against mine and let his hand slip down, his palm over my mouth replaced by three fingers, pads lightly petting my lips. I could smell scotch on his breath, but his eyes were sharp and clear. "Don't. I don't want to do this."

The feeling vibrated up my body and spread, warm and hazy, through my limbs. This was how I felt the first time Sally and I made love, but it was heavier somehow, darker.

I watched as if from a distance as my arms came up, one going around his waist to settle in the small of his back, the other ghosting a hand up his side. 

He made a soft noise and shifted his weight, bracing himself on the couch arm behind my head as his lower body settled against mine. "This is why," he said, his voice going to baritone. "This is why, and now you're here... I mean, I'm _here_, and _you're_ here, and this feels right..."

And suddenly his mouth was one mine, exactly as I had remembered from three years ago and nothing at all like kissing Sally. Nothing at all like anything else.

I knew the look of anger I saw cross Sally's face that night. And that knowledge and the feeling of this, of him, crashed over me.

My hips jerked reflexively against his and he drew his knees up under him, arching his upper body away from mine, cupping my face, and then I knew why he couldn't come to me and why I couldn't stay away from him.

There's something about two men together -- something that I see in Quatre and Trowa, something I saw in Duo and Heero. This sharing of strength, of pure male strength. I was always restless, always looking for that source of strength to be a counterpoint to mine. 

I slanted my mouth under his, opening for him, and his tongue snaked inside, rougher than the last time we kissed, the first time we kissed.

The noises he was making set me on fire.

He broke away, breathing hard, his hands pressed to my shoulders. For a moment, I thought of my dream again, thought that this would turn into something horrible as well. 

"Touch me," he said raggedly.

I hesitated only a moment, my mind clouded with confusion and desire and memories of this boy years ago and this boy in my head and I pushed him back and over, until he was laying under me, his head tilted back, twisted to the side.

"Touch me. Please."

I slid shaking hands up his body, one under his shirt, which had somehow become untucked. His skin was hot and smooth under my fingers, his belly taut, quivering. My other hand trailed up his throat, cupping his cheek.

He closed his eyes and clutched at me with bony fingers.

Heero. I could see him in Duo's tensed features, the parted lips, the flash of a pink tongue behind clenched teeth. I felt it in my burning muscles as I tried to shelter Duo from whatever it was that was keeping him from healing.

I didn't want to replace his dead lover, though. I wanted to help him, keep him safe. The image of Duo as Shinigami dissipated. I was never glad for Heero's death. Duo knew that; _I_ knew that. 

So I touched him, letting my fingers play over his face, smoothing his eyebrows, over his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose to those pale, pink lips. My other hand lay flat against his chest, feeling his hitching breath vibrate through me.

Meiran. His long muscles reminded me of her, of how it felt to finally hold her, as she was dying in my arms. But peaceful. Both firsts.

She had been my strength for so many years.

I leaned forward and let my head rest in the hollow of his shoulder and neck, and his arms slid around me, and we were still like that for a long time.

And Sally. Sally.

Duo's soft, scotch-flavored breath stirred my hair as his breathing evened out into sleep.

Perhaps the strongest woman I've ever known -- no, not just a strong woman: a strong _person_. Intelligent and biting like Duo, headstrong and passionate like Meiran.

I slid into the space between Duo and the couch back and pulled him against me. He curled into my side, sighed softly in his sleep, and mumbled, "'S'okay."

It _was_ okay. I finally understood that it was okay to love Duo, as I could have loved my wife, as I had grown to love Sally.

And when I fell asleep, I dreamt of a figure split into three, with shiny black hair in a long braid, staring at me with odd, china blue eyes.

I phoned Sally the next morning, with my heart attempting to crawl out of my mouth. When she answered, looking confused and beautiful, her unusual eyes hazy with sleep, I suddenly forgot why I called.

"What-- Wufei." She was suddenly alert, one of the things I liked about her. Loved about her, I think.

"I wanted to see how things were there."

A grin tugged on the left corner of her mouth. "Yes. Well. It's been difficult with you gone, seeing as we've only been running this thing ourselves for the past four years--"

"That's quite enough, thanks." I paused and let what I hoped was a smile tilt my eyes. "Baichi."

"You're lucky this is a vidlink, Chang."

There was a pause while we both searched for something to say. 

She sat back. "Well, if that's all--"

"I'm coming back," I blurted out in Mandarin, a language we sometimes spoke to each other in private.

"So soon?" She caught the importance in the shift in tongues, and followed suit.

"No. I mean, not now, but I _am_ coming back. I wanted you to know."

She was silent. 

"I just think I'd like to--" again, I struggled for words. "I'd like for us to explore what we started. I think I'll be ready."

"You think?"

"I know. I'll be ready. So I am coming back."

Her face softened, but those eyes -- odd, hard eyes -- were a clear window into her mind. "I won't wait around for you, Chang. I want you to know that."

I nodded curtly. "I do know. I don't expect you to, it would be--"

"Unjust?"

"Idiot," I said again, but with no sting behind it; I was relieved to have seen her and told her, in my way. 

"That's two," she said, switching back to English, pressing her index and middle fingers against the screen.

I nodded again, and she smiled, a real smile. "I'll speak with you soon, Wufei," softly, in our language.

"Yes. Sally."

She signed off.

I looked over at Duo, still asleep on the couch, and I moved to lay with him again, happy to just feel warmth and companionship, and the knowledge that, for once, things were getting better.

> _thinking about how to stay out  
out of troubles way and  
flying to fall away from you all  
it's over division day  
beautiful division day_

Two-thirty in the morning. People on L2, specifically Duo, apparently don't sleep, as they are up and knocking on my door at all hours.

Not that I had been sleeping, but, in the name of propriety, that was beside the point.

I put aside the huge scroll I was attempting to transcribe and padded to the front door, putting on my best "unamused" face. That usually at least put the American on his guard.

I pulled the door open. "Maxwell, this had better--"

But it wasn't Duo standing there. It was possibly the last person I would have expected to see standing at the door to my apartment on L2 at two-thirty in the morning.

"Am I seeing things?" I whispered.

He just stared at me, and for a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

"Can I come in," he said after a long pause, speaking the way I remembered -- the request not really a request.

I stepped back silently, unable to string together the words to form a coherent sentence.

Once inside, he crowded me against the door, and in my shock, all my self-defense instincts seemed to shut down. "How is he?"

"What?"

"Are you sleeping with him?"

This was said so matter-of-factly, I was certain I had misheard him. "Excuse me?"

"Duo. Are you sleeping with him?"

"I must have missed something here," I said slowly. "I could have sworn you just asked me if I was sleeping with Duo, an insulting question under normal circumstances, but given the situation at hand--"

"The situation at hand," he interjected, his voice as irritatingly neutral as I remembered it could be, "is that I've been watching Duo come here almost every night for the past month. Two nights ago, he didn't leave until the morning."

He pressed me closer against the door, and I felt a familiar anger start to boil up in me.

"The situation at hand, is that I came to L2 two years ago to find Duo living with someone else." 

I was gratified to hear his voice waver a moment with that information. Then I realized what he was saying.

"You were the next obvious choice, and so the situation, Chang, as I see it, is that I was correct in my assumptions."

"Are you quite through?" I asked levelly.

His mouth was pressed in a thin, angry line but he stepped back.

I stared at him, my mind racing. Heero alive, asking me if I've been sleeping with his ex-lover. The Gods must be laughing at me.

"You never answered me," he said quietly.

"That's because I don't think it even merits that much." I paused. "You were here two years ago."

"Aa."

"And you saw Duo, you- you _saw_ him."

"Aa."

I clenched my fists, and I found myself reverting back to anger I hadn't felt since the war ended and I settled in with Sally. In my mind, I saw Duo as he was almost exactly three years ago, kneeling in the dirt, his slim body shaking, looking up at me with no expression, his eyes dull. 

And suddenly, there was an explosion of pain in my knuckles, and I saw Yuy's hands go to his nose, crimson spilling through his fingers.

I looked at my fist, spotted with blood, and horror swept over me. I hadn't even felt it, hadn't even seen it coming. _Is this how fragile I am? Is this how quickly I could revert back to where I was then?_

Shaking, I stepped past him and grabbed a box of tissues. I handed them to him wordlessly, meeting his shocked eyes as steadily as I could manage.

I gestured for him to sit.

He shook his head. 

We stood like that for a while, the box of Kleenex hanging limply at his side, dried blood caking on the hand he had used to wipe it away in lieu of a tissue.

Stonily, I finally spoke. "If you have no other business, I think you had better go."

He was still silent, proving once again that he had a control that would always surpass mine.

The thought of Duo on the couch, waking up peaceful in my arms, gave me strength. A picture of Sally and I was stronger still. "No, you should stay, you're right. But know that whatever words we exchange, whatever help I decide to give you, it is for Duo's sake, not yours."

He nodded. "As it should."

"Fine then." I gestured for him to sit again. "If you're staying, then stay."

He knelt quickly on the mat to the right of the low table in front of the couch, putting one hand flat to the floor, as though he expected to have to defend himself at any moment. 

I sighed. We would always have that in common, the feeling that war was always a heartbeat away. 

I sat across from him. "You haven't been here for two solid years, have you?"

"No. I came once two years ago. Again only a few months ago."

"But you _saw_ Duo," I persisted, willing myself to calm the anger boiling in me. "How could you have seen him and not made your presence known?"

He stared at me a moment, before a grim smile worked its way onto his face. "You would have done the same." He paused at the shake of my head, and nodded. "Aa. Yes, you would have. We're the same, even if things are different for you now." He swiped a quick hand under his nose. "Still the same."

Where had this mean streak come from? It could have been unintentional, but, like the rest of us, there were small differences in the Japanese boy. And like the rest of them, I had to adjust to the new light in his eyes.

I thought about what Quatre said about friendship, about making this my business. "But this isn't about me," I said, making a decision. "Duo had his reasons."

"Yes?"

I wondered whether this was my place. I wondered whether Duo would be better off if he never knew Heero Yuy was still alive. I thought that perhaps Quatre was too different from Heero and I, from Duo even, to apply this convention of getting involved. 

"That's what I thought," the Japanese boy said, getting to his feet.

"Yuy, if you walk out that door I swear I will hunt you down for what you did to him." Suddenly I was on my feet, but this felt right, not like it had before. The words left me in a rush. "Did you expect him to be able to live without you, when the two of you kept each other alive? You did your bond with him dishonor by leaving; he was never truly himself after you left, and the silence of being alone was too much for him to bear--"

"Duo's not weak, Chang. He's never been. And he knew this was a risk we took."

"Not when it wasn't necessary."

"It was. Wasn't it?"

The uncertainty in his voice gave me pause. I reached out and clasped his wrist, feeling him automatically do the same to mine, squeezing slightly. 

"Why are you wasting time talking to me? Duo is the one you need to see -- you owe him that much."

He stood there a moment more before crisply nodding and dropping my hand.

He bled into the night and I lost sight of him, walking in the opposite direction from Duo's. I sighed, closing the door and leaning my forehead against it. 

_When will this be done?_

I thought again of Quatre and how he gently tried to explain to me the mechanics of friendship. I thought of having to tell Duo his ex-lover was alive but changed somehow.

I saw Quatre clutching Trowa's hand, felt Duo's breath on my skin.

Sluggishly, suddenly tired, I dialed a familiar number. 

She was blinking back sleep again, looking irritated until she saw my face. "Wufei?"

"Sally."

"It's okay," she said in Mandarin, gently, her voice both like and completely different from Meiran's. "It's going to be okay."

> _thinking about how to stay out  
out of troubles way and  
flying to fall away from you all  
it's over division day  
beautiful division day_

End

I'm totally enamored of Wufei right now. Please direct all comments, criticisms, and, new for this fic, nakie pictures of my little Fei to [sparcck@hotmail.com][3]

Sparcck

All original story elements and writing copyright 2000 [Jeanine Schaefer][3]. Please do not distribute this without my permission. If you want to archive it, just let me know. Any other comments or criticisms, same thing. 

**101-ism:** [http://members.nerve.com/sparcck][2]

   [1]: http://www.gwaddiction.com
   [2]: http://members.nerve.com/sparcck
   [3]: mailto:sparcck@hotmail.com



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